


I've Never Done That Before

by fairmanor



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: (Very) Light David Angst, AU, Canon Divergence, Drabble, Episode: s03e13 Grad Night, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, like blink and you'll miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25239556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairmanor/pseuds/fairmanor
Summary: A First Kiss canon divergence in which Patrick is stumbling into even newer territory than before.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	I've Never Done That Before

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is quite long for a drabble, but a drabble nonetheless as I'm not sure what else to call it :)  
> \- TW for minor mention of David being in past uncomfortable situations.  
> \- I hope you enjoy this little piece I wrote when I woke up! Hope you all have a good day/afternoon/evening, wherever you are!

The car feels a little warmer when David pulls away. The only coolness he can feel is the smooth, solid metal of his rings. And even those are clasped firmly to Patrick’s cheek, where an undeniable flush is quickly rising.

David sits back. His heart feels like an eagle trapped in his ribcage trying to beat itself to death with its wings, and he’s surprised to realize he feels as punch-drunk as Patrick looks.

_All that from one kiss? God, he’s going to wreck you._

David thinks of a million ways to break the silence, but Patrick beats him to it.

‘Thank you.’

David stills. It’s not a small feat, considering how fast everything seems to be whirring inside. Thank you? The only time he’s ever heard that come out of someone’s mouth after a moment of connection was usually when they'd had to heavily persuade David into something uncomfortable before he conceded. They thanked him, and left. Always left.

‘For what?’ David says, and he genuinely means it.

Patrick looks like he’s steeling himself. He hesitates for a moment, then responds.

‘I’ve never done that before.’

He waits for Patrick to continue. Never done what before? With a guy? In a car? At this time of day?

But he doesn’t. Three long, slow seconds pass, and it dawns on David.

That was Patrick’s first kiss.

He tilts his head and looks at Patrick, a new light dawning on this quiet, charming, sharp-witted man that seems to have knocked David’s life on an axis in the past couple of months. David doesn’t want to be patronizing, but it fills him with the strongest rush of endearment that he thinks he’s ever felt for anyone. It’s not that he finds anything wrong with it. Plenty of people don’t kiss, or even have relationships with other people, until they’re well into their twenties, thirties or even forties.

‘Yeah…’ Patrick falters, an awkward attempt to kneecap the silence. He laughs nervously. ‘And I, uh, I was getting kind of worried that I was gonna let you leave here without us having done that. So…thank you. For making that happen for us.’

And Patrick’s face is vulnerable, then; a blank canvas of new territory that’s frightened and hopeful and giddy all at once. David wants Patrick to lean back into him, physically and emotionally. He wants to make this as easy as possible for both of them.

‘Well fortunately, I am a very generous person,’ David quips gently.

Patrick smiles. It sends David’s wing-flapping heart off again.

‘Can we talk tomorrow?’ he says.

David returns the smile warmly as he unclips his seatbelt, fighting the urge to take Patrick’s hand and lace their fingers together. He feels like he’s stepped out of a 1950s high school romcom: share a meal at the diner, have your first kiss in the car on your way home, congratulate your sister on her graduation. It’s so unfamiliar and so achingly pure and wholesome that David could happily spend the rest of his life basking in the moment.

‘We can talk whenever you like.’

He steps out of the car before it gets too difficult to leave.

‘Goodnight, Patrick,’ he whispers through the open window.

David tries not to look back before he enters the motel room. (He might have looked back three times, though.) He can at least stop himself looking a fourth time, content in the knowledge that the memory is well preserved between the both of them, a little jigsaw of new life goals that will be traded back and forth forever.

After all, in a way, it was kind of like David’s first kiss as well.


End file.
